


At Rayfalke's Peak (We Stay)

by ShepherdSoreyDidNothingWrong (Sagnessagiel)



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: <3, ? - Freeform, Angst, Implied Violence, Other, So my pal had a bday, Swearing, did somebody say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 14:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10414749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagnessagiel/pseuds/ShepherdSoreyDidNothingWrong
Summary: A somewhat late birthday gift. Hope you had a good one <3Can be read as romantic or platonic.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theangstyace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangstyace/gifts).



> I have not played Berseria yet. Excuse any inaccuracies that result.

The mountain erupts with noise and commotion. A loud crash sounds as rocks and dust scatter in all directions.

The sharp claws of a dragon dig into the hard earth. It cracks underneath the pressure. Eizen squeezes hard before he draws back to inspect his work. Rock slides in the area have been responsible for less destruction. If this place was unsafe in the old days, it is a death trap in these.

Some distance away, Zaveid lands softly as a feather on a stable ledge. His escape was narrow, his reflexes just enough to get him out safely.

He does a quick check for damage and finds no new injuries. Satisfied, he raises his hands to his mouth.

"That the best you got?" he shouts, his hands framing his mouth and amplifying the sound. "You must be getting old if you can't even land a hit!"

It s a bad idea to antagonise a dragon, especially when you have been at it for several days and night already. At present, he has not left the mountains for a week and a half. HIs voice is a little hoarser and his clothes much dirtier, but it does nothing to discourage him. He can deal with the falter in his step, the slight stagger to his stance. As long as he can get away in time he can still fight.

Eizen rains down like an unholy storm, slamming into the rock face next to him. Giant jaws snap, closer than he is strictly comfortable with. Quick and agile, he darts out of the way.

Except that his agility has suffered several harsh landings and some rock shards by now, and he stumbles precariously before he regains his footing. Suddenly Eizen has torn the base off his ledge, and he is falling to the ground below.

This landing is less smooth. It wreaks havoc on his knees, and he groans with the sudden pain. It makes his whole body ache. Exhaustion might be catching up with him.

Eizen crashes down next to him, shaking the earth. He gets up and runs.

There is a certain point to all their fights so far where Zaveid has to swallow some mixture of pride and disappointment and finally run for his life. The plan is to get rid of that part entirely. So far he has not figured it out. All he knows is that swallowing his pride makes him feel physically nauseous. The disappointment, he does not even want to deal with.

He ducks and weaves, dust and rock shards scattering all around him. It is difficult to shake a dragon off your trail, even in such a closed space as a mountain path.

His rescue comes in the form of a narrow ravine. As proficient as he has become with his new body, Eizen can only dig so far into stone. Zaveid jumps into the air, boosting himself as far as he can go, and dives headlong into the small space.

It is a long moment of struggling and scuffling before he gains purchase on the rock walls and by then he can only slow his fall. He reaches the end of the hole and lands in a heap on the dusty floor of it. It is just wide enough to fit him, leaving little room for him to do anything other than sit or stand.

He pushes himself up to sit. After a moment of absolute wonderment that he managed to get away, he looks up.

No further attack reaches him. Eizen is a blot of darkness far above, occasionally blocking out the slit of sunlight. He digs and scrapes at the narrow opening, to no avail. He cannot dig his way in here, and Zaveid only hopes he does not get anything loose that might fall and kill him. That would be a most undignified way to go.

Zaveid sits very still, the ache in his bones getting worse by the second. He should really know to quit when he is ahead, especially if the goal is to save Eizen. At the moment, he does not see a way to do that.

He clenches his jaw and watches the dragon pawing at the opening. His breathing is hard, his chest sore.

"Eizen," he pants, "buddy."

As he expected, no answer but the frantic scratching of giant claws. Eizen cannot reach him here. He takes it for the reprieve it is.

The sound is deafening. Eizen's claws and teeth do not seem to dull from wearing down the stones of the mountain. As a result, his dragging them on the mountainside produces the same screeching sound as it always does. Zaveid feels a headache growing. It matches neatly with the cuts and bruises to make a complete set.

Seraphim do not need to sleep, but they can become exhausted. It is a mental process as much as a physical one, and the mind can be worn by the smallest stresses over time.

Zaveid would not call this a small stress. What he would call it, he is unsure of.

His legs are pressed up against his chest by the narrow walls of the ravine. He leans his head back on the wall, just watching the calamity above. Eizen is large enough to block out nearly all of the light.

He does not want to do it. He knows it is a futile attempt, just as it was the first time, and the second, and the third, but he cannot seem to shake the habit of the act itself. There has to be some sort of change of pace from the fighting.

He stretches his powers. A current of wind carries his words far above his head, out of the ravine and above the manic scratching.

"Eizen," he mutters, hating himself. Hating his life. "I know you're in there."

There is a brief pause in the movement, surprise at the sudden sound. However, Eizen is used to it by now (having gone through attempt One through Fuck Everything with him) and continues his search. THe screeching starts up again.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Zaveid mutters. "Be like that then."

His silence lasts for all of twenty seconds after that. He never was very good with shutting up.

"I know I said I'd fix it," he continues. "I know what I promised. But... buddy, You gotta work with me here. You have to..."

Have to what? he thinks. Lay down and bare his neck? Turn back time? Those are not exactly fair requests for Zaveid to make. Although at this point, nothing is. What does it matter?

He sighs, swallows. It makes him aware of the dirt and blood in his mouth. The taste has long become familiar to him. How long have they been up here, on this mountain together? How long has Edna been up here, stuck with them? He knows that it is long enough for the humans to have stopped coming. Other than that, it has blurred together somewhat.

"Say, bud," he says, abandoning whatever the hell he was aiming to say before. "I know you can't talk anymore. I know you can't think the same way, but if you'd just... if you could just do me a favour and let up a little bit. I need to be able to get up close if I'm going to fix it."

There is no stutter in the movement this time. Eizen has slowed down, to a more contemplative pace, but he does not react to Zaveid's words. That is to be expected. He never did before.

"It's a dumb request, I know," he mutters, now talking to the stone wall. "You'd call me an idiot if you had the tongue for it." He looks for any hint of amber eyes above his head. He sees only dark shapes.

He is not sure why it happens. A thought occurs to him.

"Hey," he says, "you remember the time you called me a jackass in seven languages in front of the crew?"

He chuckles weakly. The memory flashes vividly before him.

"I've never seen Crowe look so impressed. I almost thought she was going to smile for a second."

He does not expect a response, he tells himself in his mind, and he should not be disappointed  
when there is none. He really should not.

He blinks, looking upwards. His eyes are welling dangerously. Exhaustion and grief mingle and conspire against him.

"Then there was that time you threw me overboard." His voice cracks just slightly as he laughs.  "I mean, I know you knew I'd be fine, but it's the principle of it. You magnificent douche."

His tone is warm and affectionate in a way that it never really was with anyone else. Were it not for dwindling energy and the solitude of the mountain, he would never say anything of the sort. The next thing he says, he is not sure he would say out loud if Eizen was able to hear him.

"I miss you, okay?" His voice lowers to a whisper. Pebbles and dust settle around him as his powers redirect them from hitting him. They cascade down from the mouth of the ravine, pried loose by the dragon's efforts. Eizen seems to be getting bored, slowly accepting the reality of his prey being temporarily unreachable.

Zaveid catches sight of an eye with a narrowing pupil. He gives a weak wave.

Finally, Eizen gives up and pries his claws out of the small space. He sniffs at it with deep, heavily pressured breaths, before he disappears entirely out of view. Zaveid listens to the thrum of his footsteps. The dragon retreats up the mountain, to his cave or nest or whatever you call it. In a moment, calm settles over the space.

It is for the best, he tells himself. He closes his eyes, breathes deeply and slowly.

"Wait a little longer, friend," he says to the silence. "I'm working on it."


End file.
